


You've Stolen My Heart

by Crataeis



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex Danvers Needs a Hug, Alien Mythology/Religion, Angst, Even Mon-El Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Extremely Slow Burn, F/F, F/M, Hero Lena Luthor, Homophobia, I'll try and include as much of the cast as possible, Jimmy Olsen is actually a good artist..., Kara is so innocent, Kara is so oblivious, Kara needs a vacation, Lena Luthor Doesn't Know Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor is a badass, Lena can sing, Lena is basically Green Arrow, Mon-El actually has a purpose... kinda, Role Reversal, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, SuperCorp, Supergirl au, Vigilante Lena Luthor, but not a jerk, but she'll bring that secret to the grave, including some outside characters, there's a lot of other characters that I probably haven't added, well he's still useless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 18:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21462343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crataeis/pseuds/Crataeis
Summary: Lena "Rogue" Luthor doesn't exist. She died 5 years ago in a shipwreck, along with Lionel Luthor. But now fate has brought her back to National City, and she only has one purpose: Right the wrongs of her father. She has a list of names- the people who are ruining the city. Night by night, she goes after them, threatening them into compliance and fixing the injustices they committed. But with every kill, she's slowly losing what's left of her humanity.Kara "Supergirl" Danvers is being pulled in a thousand different directions. Catco is under new management- a man named Jack Speer, who seems determined to reveal the identity of Supergirl. Agent Liberty riles up anti-alien protestors on the streets and media, causing havoc for the alien world. A killer, known as "Rogue" strikes nightly, sending fear spiraling into the hearts of civilians, and Kara justmightbe falling for him. Her sister, Alex, refuses to talk her because she thinks she's homophobic. Daxamite attacks, knock-off vigilantes, villains all the way from Gotham City, World Killers, kryptonite, Lex Luthor, corrupt leadership in the DEO, and the Chinese restaurant ran out of pot stickers. Can Kara ever catch a break?
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, J'onn J'onzz/M'gann M'orzz, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Querl Dox/Nia Nal
Comments: 18
Kudos: 82





	You've Stolen My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I do these characters justice. I love them all. Even Mon-El, even though he can be a jerk. You don't have to watch anything other than Supergirl to understand what's going on. Lena just has Green Arrow's "backstory," which will, for the most part, be explained within the first five chapters and the ongoing flashbacks. 
> 
> Lena hunts down another name on the list. However, her confidence causes her to falter.

There’s nothing like being isolated for five years straight on a remote tropical island, in the middle of fucking nowhere, to coerce a girl into appreciating the finer things in life. 

Air conditioning. That was a luxury Lena definitely missed. She always knew the old Indiana Jones movies she used to watch with her brother as a kid were lies but never had she been so acutely aware of the shamefully massive amount of facts glossed over regarding the practicality of survival. Starvation and dehydration were constant, lingering death warrants, but in all actuality, an untreated infection or the blistering heat would claim you long before you even knew the prospect of hunger. 

That being said, the amount of frivolous possessions and displays of obvious wealth plastered across every possible nook and cranny of this house, sickened her to every fiber in her body. Everything from the Japanese jade sculptures to the golden trim along the wood-carven shelves and cabinets screamed of overzealous luxury. It reminded her of a time when she thought that somebody’s worth was measured by the number of zeros in their bank account. It reminded her of a time when she tossed away the numerical equivalent of a starving artist’s paycheck at a casino or stripper. The old Lena sickened her. The new Lena did as well. But at least the new Lena did some good in the world. 

The noise produced from the phony actors blabbering across the oversized, flat screen television, along with the consistent, exhausted wails of the air vents, muffled the sound of her footsteps. Stealth was one of her most valuable weapons, but also one of her most unstable. Despite the countless hours of training spent bathing herself in the shadows, she still hadn’t perfected the craft. Her feet still pattered against the floor like a tiny mouse, when she sprinted across a hard flooring. She was impatient and had a difficult time just watching her target. It had to have something to do with the scandalous concepts instilled upon her since birth: _Luthors are made to stand out. Luthors are meant to shine._

But she wasn’t a Luthor anymore. Not really. She wholeheartedly believed that the name died along with that stupid sunken ship. 

She’d been as big a moron as any of the scumbags she hunted down for their crimes before that boat trip. She was a spoiled brat, who didn’t know the world didn’t revolve around her. It was honestly pathetic that it took her five years of scrawling both tooth and nail for her life, away from the comforts of society to not be the total epitome of scumbag. Then again, she was a Luthor. Being a scumbag was literally written into her genetic code, despite the fact that she wasn’t even related by blood. The cursed last name tacked on alone was alone enough to corrupt anyone. 

Snores growled from the kitchen, knocking Lena out of her thoughts and into hunting mode. Her heartbeat slowed, her body froze, and her senses heightened. It was all a game of cat and mouse, and for once it felt good to be on the other side of the spectrum. She’d spent too much of her life being the prey, and that was a role in which she never intended to return. 

_This politician is an idiot, just like the decisions he makes for this city._ Usually, there were alarms or at least some form of security guarding these spoiled millionaire’s rich ass houses. Anyone with money had to spend at least some of it towards the worthy cause of protecting their wealth, otherwise, they wouldn’t have anything left, because robbers and thieves would see it as a field day. However, so far, she had yet to come across any obstacle. There wasn’t even a security camera. It was a miracle in itself that this place hadn’t been stripped clean. 

The target tonight was Cedric Fawkes. He’d been the main politician representing National City and several of the smaller townships surrounding it since before Lena was even born. She didn’t remember much from her government classes, but she did know that congress wasn’t meant to be a full time, permanent job, especially if you just milked the position for its commemorative benefits. He wasn’t even a good politician. He made horrible decisions regarding everything and anything, which wasn’t actually entirely his fault, because he sided with whatever his sponsors told him to. Without their financial backing, there would be no way in hell the guy would still be in office. To put it simply, he was corrupt and he either needed someone to straighten out his priorities or put him down. 

And that was precisely the reason why Lena was here. 

She was confident that he wouldn’t put up much of a fight. She did a numerous amount of background checks on the guy, just as she did with all of her “victims.” Well off but not wealthy family, law school, and then election. It was the same old story that basically mirrored every other corrupt politician she put down. And they hadn’t fought back, so why would he? In this type of work, it was all about finding patterns because patterns made everything a hell lot more simple. 

The snores only got louder as she neared the kitchen, and they sounded half drunk. She snorted. Honestly, this was pathetic. She almost felt _bad_ over how pathetic this was. She promised herself that she’d make it quick. She’d scare him a little bit, make some threats, and be on her way. Unlike the other people she went after, this guy wasn’t _completely_ at fault. He was basically a puppet to the big guys pulling the strings. He’d lose his career, his house, and whatever reputation he had left, if he disobeyed his masters. She knew all too well what it was like to be a puppet. She knew the moment this guy succumbed to her threats that whoever put him on top would see it as defiance and strip everything from him. She was dooming him. But he was dooming a whole hell’s worth of people, and at the end of the day, those millions of people were a lot more important than some dumb position in the government. 

_That’s the reason I’m not, and will never be a normal, functioning member of society_: Empathy. Luthors didn’t have it. Since she wasn’t a full-fledged Luthor, maybe she did at one point, but definitely not anymore. No one with empathy would knowingly tear apart people’s lives, even if those people did terrible things. 

That’s also the reason why she wasn’t a hero. Sure, she stopped the occasional bank robber, and she sometimes took a break from her _usual_ work to patrol the streets of National City, but that didn’t fool her or anyone else regarding what she truly was- a killer. She was the only “vigilante” that killed, and that’s if you could even call her a vigilante, because that term put her on the same level as Guardian, and honestly, he or she was ten times the person she was. 

She wasn’t even on the same level as Agent Liberty, the anti-alien activist that rose up out of seemingly nowhere in the last month. He had become a mascot of sorts, giving people something they could trust and believe in. He hurt people, sometimes, and his heroics weren’t pulled off as flawless as Guardian’s, but he was trying, and he did good to some extent. She could see why aliens hated him, he practically advocated for their deaths. But at least he didn’t strike fear into the hearts of every living soul, like she did. 

But no matter how hard both of them tried, they were nothing compared to the golden ray of hope, known as Supergirl. You couldn’t get any closer to an authentic hero than she was. The brilliant red cape flowing behind her back and the golden seal across her chest practically validated her as a worthy savior of people’s lives. Little kids looked up to her. Lena couldn’t count on five pairs of hands how many children she’d seen on Halloween with Supergirl costumes. Guardian and Agent Liberty could literally save the world from detonation five-hundred times and still not come close to the heroics of Supergirl. 

Guardian was a vigilante. Agent Liberty was an icon. Supergirl was a hero. Lena was a murderer. Guardian and Agent Liberty didn’t come close to the level of Supergirl, but comparing the likes of her to even Agent Liberty would be like comparing an angel to a demon. This city feared Lena. Everyone feared her, including the people she saved personally. 

But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to her anymore. Only the list. The list was her purpose. The list was her father’s final, dying wish. Once she confronted every single person on the list, then her purpose was done, and she could go crawl away to some hole somewhere, and retire to a tropical island that wasn’t filled with death and assassins. 

But, for now, she had to focus on the present. 

Cedric Fawkes would be name number twenty-three. Only two-hundred-and-eighty-nine to go. 

She creaked open the intricately-designed wooden door to the kitchen, revealing the space to be completely dark. The only light was a distant streetlamp whose glow seeped through the partially closed blinds over the sink’s window. Lena unsheathed her bow. Her fingers twitched, ready to nock an arrow at any given time. She crept across the room, her body literally glued to the wall and her movements cloaked by the cover of the shadows. It only took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The target was passed out at the counter, his head down and nuzzled in his hands. A large bottle of some kind of alcohol and a half-empty glass sat next to him. 

She crept behind him, preparing to pounce. Physically, she was there, but her mind wasn’t. And why should it be? This was going to be quick and easy. The guy was literally drunk and passed out in front of her. It didn’t get any simpler than this. Maybe she’d grab a pizza after this whole ordeal. The thought of garlic smothered crust and steamy loads of cheese was enough to make her mouth water. But then again, that would require going out in civilian clothes, without her costume. Even if she had it delivered somewhere, it would still involve someone seeing her face. She could always use one of those image inducers, but that would be a waste just for a pizza. Okay, so maybe not pizza. Over half of it would just end up going stale and forgotten in the fridge anyway. 

She leaped at the man and tackled him to the floor, almost like a dog springing at its owner after they’ve returned from a long day at work. The voice modulator was already activated, but she pressed it anyway out of caution. She’d forgotten to activate it once and she’d just about given herself a heart attack. It was by pure luck that the woman she was speaking to was half-unconscious. She wrung the string of her bow around the guy’s neck. He was shaking. Her distorted, deepened voice bellowed out the signature line, the only line she normally allowed people to hear, “Cedric Fawkes, you have failed this ci-”

For the first time that night, she studied the man’s face. Her heart plummeted through her chest. His dark hair was long and curly. His face was almost cherubic, his cheeks chubby in a way similar to that of a toddler. He looked young. He couldn’t be any older than she was- early-to-mid-twenties. This was not Cedric Fawkes. 

Almost on queue, a shot rang out from behind her. Multiple shots, as a matter of fact. And then, the next thing she knew, there was a searing pain exploding from the left side of her stomach, and a pool of blood painting itself against the green leather of her jacket. 

_Shit_, she cursed. It was a trap. She’d done her research. Fawkes dismissed his bodyguard at night. He only took his bodyguard with him during meetings, interviews, and other public events. Fawkes was the kind of man to run on a schedule, and stick with it. Then again, he was also planning to be home tonight, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t there at all. The only ones there were her, his bodyguard and some dumb kid they hired. However, she hadn’t sensed the bodyguard’s presence. Who knew how many other people could pop out at any given moment. 

Someone knew she was going to attack Cedric Fawkes tonight. And to know who she was going to attack meant that someone had the list. It couldn’t be any of Lena’s associates, because Lena didn’t have any associates. She didn’t trust anyone. She didn’t talk to anyone. When it came down to it, you could only trust yourself. That meant someone else had the list, and it was someone against her. Next time, she’d be sure to mix up the order. 

Her head was ringing, but she heard the dreaded dial of buttons pressed. The phone buzzed loudly for what felt like an eternity before her shooter spoke in a surprisingly calm voice. “Hello, 9-1-1, I have an emergency. This is Richard Coates, personal bodyguard of Cedric Fawkes. An intruder has broken into the house. From the looks of it, it’s that Rogue bastard. I’ve shot him in the chest. The address is 460 Maple Drive.” The phone clicked off. Another shot rang out from gun, this time hitting Lena straight through her chest. More pain and blood exploded from her torso. She could still breathe though, it hadn’t hit anything vital. 

_Get up, Lena, you’ve faced so much worse than this!_ She had to get out of here before the police swarmed the area. She heaved her broken body off the floor, and limped towards the window. The bodyguard had stopped watching. He assumed she was down. Any normal person would have passed out from pain. But she wasn’t a normal person. 

She could sirens in the distance. They grew louder. 

She ripped the blinds from the kitchen window, grunting from the movement and strength it tolled. She paused for a second, sizing up the pane of glass. Thank god this guy was rich enough to install glass instead of plastic windows, otherwise she’d be screwed. With one fluid motion, she charged at the window like a bull at a red cape, shattering it, the pieces dusting her suit like powdered sugar on a donut. 

The bullet that hit her straight in the chest was still there. It hurt like hell. She grimaced. _C’mon Lena, you’ve got to get out of this._ The high pitched sirens wailed. Vivid blue and red flashing lights surrounded the house. Shouts she couldn’t make out bellowed in the distance. But she was already on her way back to main district of National City. 

It was all a blur. She wasn’t sure how she made it, but she did. She always made it. She wasn’t Guardian. She didn’t have a suit of knight’s armor. Although she was completely capable of making one, armor was heavy and it reflected light. She’d lose the advantage of stealth. She wasn’t Agent Liberty. People didn’t flock to her words, because she didn’t offer any. No one saw her during the day, and it was going to stay that way. She wasn’t Supergirl. Lena was only human. She didn’t have superpowers that made people compare her to a comic book hero. She wasn’t bullet proof and she bled. But Lena always got up. She kept fighting. She was a fighter. 

Lena traipsed up a lift to the top of a building. She needed to get a view of the city, figure out where the police were and calculate the best route “home.” 

She needed to get the bullet out, and clean the wound before it got infected. She needed to get something to eat, and figure out who else could possibly have the list. Did they know who she was? No, that was impossible. To the world, Lena Luthor was dead. 

She needed to do a lot of things, but she had a plan. And when you have a plan, everything and anything can be accomplished. 

Coming face to face with the caped beacon of hope wasn’t part of that plan. 

The moment she reached the top of the building, she breathed a sigh of relief. The pain was terrible, but she could tolerate it long enough to get back to her hideout. She was going to be fine. 

Well, that was before she looked up. Hovering, no flying, above her was Supergirl in all her glory. The signature red cape, the seal, the boots, and impractical skirt she fought in for some reason. Her blonde hair flew behind her, as the wind licked at it. She was glaring straight at Lena. It looked like she was ready to shoot a couple of laser-beam eye-rays right at her. 

“Rogue, drop your weapons. Stand down.” 

_Shit._

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating this whenever I get the chance. Thank you so much for reading! I love this show, and I hope I can do right by these wonderful characters. I promise there's going to be a lot more action in the future. This was just the introduction. Also, next chapter will include Kara's POV. 
> 
> I'm leaving anonymous comments on because I'm a sucker for comments. Please just don't spam <3


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